Elysium
We all have that dream. The one where our worries from the past aren't there and we can focus on the better parts of our lives. Time and time again, that dream grows apart from you, making it just that. In this future, we've lost nearly every memory of that reality.
In Elysium, those dreams are slightly closer.
Many accused it of being witchcraft technology that robbed people of true joy. If the same people were honest with themselves, their best stories are somewhere far from their present. My present wasn't the worst there was... but my idea for a dream was with someone I couldn't be close to.
After working for years in kitchens and the machines that run them, you see yourself in a lot of restaurants and even private spaces. By accident, I happened to find him having an argument with the man who raised him. Once he noticed me, there were words with me and a scuffle between the three. While the older man walked off, the younger one scowled.
"I didn't need your help," he grumbled.
"You got it anyway," was all I said.
He was standoffish at me, seeing as I was someone he didn't know. After a long period of awkward and tense silence, I sighed before I offered him a clean rag from my back pocket.
"Fuck off."
"You got a bad cut."
He touched around his face, realizing there was fresh blood. Biting his tongue, the rag was snatched from my hand as I leaned against the wall.
"You got a name?"
"None of your damn business."
"Nice to meet you."
His eyes looked up, staring daggers before he rolled his eyes.
"I'm Petro."
"I know who you are. You've been to my house."
This made me raise a brow. So that's why he looks familiar.
"It would help if you told me your name."
Shaking his head, he came over pushing the rag into my chest.
"You're a smart guy. I'm sure you'll remember."
Before I could say anything else, he walked off. Sighing, I noticed how much heavier the rag felt. Cupping it in my palm, I opened the bloodied cloth to find a few gold coins. On one of them, there was the symbol of Earth, roots, and a sword.
Oh... so this is how I'll find you.
--
Seeing as net results were vetted and questioned for suspicion, I went to the library after my shift at the restaurant to find the symbol. There were six older texts that documented marks like this and that was with good reason. Since technology took over everything around, books were the real place to look when you knew the truth was behind a price tag.
I didn't leave until sometime later the next day. By then, I knew exactly who my mystery friend from last night was. Aleksandr Kievne.
His father was responsible for creating thermal mood lighting for clubs, a revolutionary thing in a city functioning on clubs, underground dark stations, and close to everywhere else in Kelar. One thing that few people noticed was Mr. Kievne's greed, pushing away anyone of blood to save the money and spotlight for himself.
Aleksandr was right that I had been at his house, seeing as I had repaired Mr. Kievne's machines more than once. Though... that was for an apartment on his own. On the walk back to my apartment to wash up, I thought over and over of places Aleksandr could be. Looks like I had some work to do.
--
Sending out a few messages, I came back from showering to find ten replies. There was only one with more useful information on it.
Aleksander Kievne
Age: 21
Occupation: Literature Analyst & Musician
Hobbies: Dancing, discret restaurant tours
There were few districts with those activities or types in Kelar. But just one had all four: District Dark. Taking a bag of spare clothes and emergency supplies, I started to take the railway. Seeing as it was nearing midnight already, I expected it to be jam packed and heading to District Red and Blue. But it seemed thin... which sent my flags up immediately.
Boarding the train, my stomach felt heavy as the doors closed. Looking to my right, I froze in place. Aleksandr...